


you knocked me out of my head

by yerbamansa



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Banter, Day At The Beach, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Picnics, Slice of Life, Stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-01 21:57:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19186198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yerbamansa/pseuds/yerbamansa
Summary: On a work trip to the California coast, Patrick surprises David with an extra day off (no wedding planning allowed). His plans don’t work out the way he hoped, but maybe that’s OK.





	you knocked me out of my head

**Author's Note:**

  * For [teddy_the_bear03](https://archiveofourown.org/users/teddy_the_bear03/gifts).



> So this sort of combines a couple of prompts (starlight picnic, beach walk), which just made me think of time I’ve spent with someone special in Santa Cruz, California. Maybe it’s not what you had in mind, but I hope you enjoy it all the same.  
> Title comes from the song [“Roller Coaster by the Sea” by the Modern Lovers](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0LKarIpBBzs).

At any other point in his life, David wouldn’t expect to be told, “You’ve been so busy lately. Let me take care of this,” much less believe it. But this was Patrick, and David _had_ been busy. Planning their wedding. Which was _stressful_. So when his fiance offered to take care of the arrangements for their business trip—some kind of natural beauty expo in a Californian coastal town; David wasn’t _really_ paying attention—he smiled, soft and warm, which broke into a grin. Then he teared up.

Patrick, startled, looked at him with sympathy. He leaned in close and put an arm over David’s shoulder. “David, are you all right?”

“Yep. Yep. It’s nothing,” David nodded, averting his eyes.

“Is this about the wedding?”

David considered his response, but didn’t say anything.

“It’s OK if it’s about the wedding, David. I can tell it’s stressing you out.” Patrick rubbed David’s shoulders reassuringly.

David sniffed. “I didn’t realize _how much_!”

“These things are kind of notoriously stressful,” Patrick gently teased. “Anyway, it’s just a little trip, David. For the store.”

“Right. For the store.”

“Not a big deal.”

“Sure.” David rubbed his eyes. “It’ll be fun.”

Patrick smirked. “Don’t put _too_ much pressure on me, now.”

* * *

Santa Cruz had been good to them so far. David was in his element, schmoozing and sampling product, grateful for the brief respite from wedding planning. He fielded four calls requiring a sharp-tongued argument, and two of those were from Alexis. After the first day, Patrick made him leave his phone on silent. “So you don’t scare off any potential customers,” he’d said. David opened his mouth to retort, but stopped himself, knowing Patrick was right.

“I could just block Alexis’s number,” he offered.

Patrick’s skeptical expression was all the answer needed. He set his ringer to mute and showed it to Patrick before putting the phone in his pocket.

As the expo was winding down, Patrick found himself at their booth with David nowhere in sight. He pulled out his phone to call him, but remembered after a few rings that he’d convinced David to keep his phone on silent, and hung up. He chuckled to himself and started packing up. David would turn up sooner or later.

“Looks like I have good timing!” came a familiar voice while Patrick was crouched behind the table.

Most of the booth had been packed neatly into shipping boxes. They’d sold decently well, but there was still stock to take home, not to mention a few extra samples David wanted to test at the store. Patrick looked up and smiled at the sight of his partner’s sparkling eyes. “Hey.”

“So what do you have planned for our last night in town?”

Patrick started taping up a box. “Think you could grab the banner? And it’s not our last night.”

David looked puzzled, but started pulling down the booth signage. “What do you mean? We’re packing up.”

“Mm. Flights were cheaper if we left the next day.”

“Oh, so it’s a money thing.”

“Of course.”

“Right. But, the hotel…?”

“Who do you think you’re talking to, David? I’m the numbers guy.”

“OK! OK! Sorry!”

“Plus I thought we might enjoy a beach day.”

“I don’t think I brought any good beach outfits…”

“That’s OK, we can rent wetsuits.”

“What?!”

Patrick grinned. “Yeah, I booked us surfing lessons.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“I always wanted to catch some tasty waves.”

“Who _are_ you?”

“Plus you’d look _adorable_ in a skin-tight…”

“I’m gonna stop you right there.”

“Stevie’s expecting pictures.”

“Stop.”

“New experiences are so important for keeping the fire alive.”

“Oh, my _god_.”

Patrick smoothed the tape on the last box and pulled David into a kiss. “I love you. Trust me.”

“Mmhmm. It’s just, you never said if you were joking…”

“Trust is the foundation of any relationship,” Patrick said, kissing David’s cheek.

“Uh-huh. Right.”

“But just in case, you can double-check the pizza order tonight.”

David grimaced, but nodded. “You just want me to say, ‘I trust you,’ I get it. Fine. I trust you.”

“That’s right, David. Can you help with the rest of these boxes? I want to get back to the room.”

“Mm, only if you weren’t kidding about that pizza.”

“I’m _always_ serious about pizza.”

“I love that about you.”

* * *

Patrick had quietly ordered pizza to be delivered to their room while they were packing up the rental car, so it got there soon after they did. David gasped approvingly at the crispy crust and melty cheese, still hot enough that the steam hit his face when the delivery guy opened the box.

“One more thing,” Patrick said as soon as they were alone, and pulled out a nice bottle of red wine.

“You’ve been holding out on me!”

Patrick chuckled and opened the bottle while David gingerly lifted out the first slice. They poured and plated on humble motel dishes. The meal was almost as good as the company.

By the time they killed the bottle—and the pizza—it was only 7 p.m. The sun was still out, at least for a while.

“I heard the walk along the sea cliff a few blocks from here is nice,” Patrick suggested. David assented, and they set out.

The sky over the Pacific Ocean, framed by California coastline, is a thing of beauty, but sunset to dusk can feel like magic. Angular cypress make an impressive silhouette against the pinks and corals and oranges that fade into a deep warm blue as night begins to fall. Not that David or Patrick were paying much attention to the sky that night. They walked, hand in hand, warm despite the cool, salty evening breeze and apparently unaware of passing joggers and dog-walkers.

At some point, David spotted a bench and pulled Patrick onto it. “Come sit. We can enjoy the view,” he said.

“Oh, sure, the view,” Patrick replied, obliging him with a forehead coming to rest on his cozy-sweatered chest.

David wrapped his arms around Patrick and stroked his hair. Patrick looked up, gazing warmly into his fiance’s deep brown eyes. He felt happy and safe and warm in those arms. And a little buzzed, which couldn’t be just the wine.

“The sun is in a weird place,” David said softly.

“It’s sunset, David,” Patrick teased without looking away.

“ _Hmm_. But it’s like we’re facing _away_ from it. We are on the W _est_ Coast, right?”

Patrick hadn’t thought about it. He wasn’t used to watching sunsets over the ocean, anyway. He shifted slightly to see what David saw. “Well, we are on a bay. Maybe we’re facing a little south.”

“Huh.”

They held each other on the bench in the rapidly darkening night, appreciating the quiet after two straight days of work. Only the rhythm of the tide and the occasional passing conversation offered reminders of where they were. At some point, David pressed his lips onto Patrick’s forehead, which prompted Patrick to sit up and lean into a long, tender kiss. David responded in kind, exactly as Patrick knew he would. Exactly the way they’d done so many times before. They were never shy about being affectionate in public, at least not in Schitt’s Creek. They were making out on a park bench overlooking the ocean, at dusk, in Santa Cruz, and everything felt right.

But it did, eventually, get a little chilly, even for David, so they got up and started walking back to the motel. On the way, they passed the still-open pizza shop, its aroma wafting into the salty night air. David closed his eyes and inhaled before seeing the sign.

“Ooohh, they do slices?”

Patrick shot him a nearly-patented _I can’t believe you’re still hungry_ look that David was too busy peering through the window to catch, so instead he opened the door. “After you.”

* * *

No one ever had high expectations for David Rose. His parents wanted his life to be _easy_. Stevie, who came to know him better than anyone, never asked him for anything. Patrick went out of his way to soothe David’s anxiety, which lurked around every corner. David had managed to surprise every one of them with moments of selflessness and resilience over the years, but the persistence of low expectations followed him still.

That’s not what Patrick was thinking about when his plans for their free day met with frustration at every turn. He was sure that, at any moment, David was going to break down and ask to spend the rest of the day in the hotel room. But he should have known better by now. When the parking lot at Henry Cowell was full and they couldn’t take an easy stroll among ancient redwoods and their phones didn’t have enough service to pull up an alternative, David commented on how at least the drive was pretty.

Patrick swallowed his own frustration with the stymied plan and agreed. “I think this highway goes through back into town. We could just keep going.”

David nodded and rolled the window down. The breeze brought in the scent of redwoods, and David breathed in deep.

“This is nice,” he said.

“You’re not disappointed?”

“Was I supposed to be?”

Patrick shifted uncomfortably. “No. I guess not.”

“Are _you_ disappointed?”

“I mean…” Patrick sighed. “I planned this extra day for us. To give you a break.”

David smiled and placed his palm on Patrick’s thigh. “Well, I think you succeeded. This is a lovely day.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean. I could use something to eat.”

“You got a signal on your phone yet?”

“Hmm…” David flicked his phone awake. “There’s a surprising number of options in this town.”

“Where to?”

“Keep going. There’s a million places downtown.”

“Downtown? Ohhh, I have an idea.”

“For food?”

“For after.”

“Ooh. Well, I trust you,” David smiled.

Patrick kept driving, following signs for Downtown Santa Cruz. As they approached the coast, a hint of ocean breeze came in through David’s open window. David closed his eyes and smiled softly, which Patrick noticed. David’s surprising easygoing attitude gave Patrick the briefest pang of guilt—for underestimating this lovely man, the one he chose to be with _forever_ , the one who carried him up a hill without thinking there was anything in it for him beyond some cheese… yeah, David’s wants were ultimately pretty simple. And Patrick just wanted to make him happy, which, at least for the moment, wasn’t asking much.

They pulled into a parking lot. David studied his phone for walking directions to the diner he found and led the way to a cozy booth.

“Avocado fries, huh?” Patrick observed, studying the menu. “That’s something you won’t find at the Cafe Tropical.”

“Mmm,” David smiled. “Are you sure about that? I don’t think I’ve made it through the entire menu yet.”

“I take it you’re having trouble deciding which sliders to order.”

“Or which ones _not_ to order.”

“How hungry _are_ you, David?”

David didn’t look up from scrutinizing his choices. “ _Hmm!_ Do you know me at all?”

 _Of course_. Patrick extended a hand across the table. “Point taken. OK, milkshake or root beer float?”

“Decisions, decisions,” David responded, placing his gold ring-clad hand over Patrick’s.

* * *

Patrick’s surprise idea, it turned out, was an afternoon at the Boardwalk. He was almost surprised how easygoing David ended up being about it: he wasn’t sure if vintage roller coasters and tourist crowds would meet with his notoriously finicky fiance’s approval. Maybe it was the root beer float. And the fries. And the sliders. And the company.

Or maybe it was that these thrills didn’t require any real physical exertion on David’s part, thought Patrick, smiling at the memory of David wobbling 30 feet in the air on a series of shaky logs, trying to prove how “exciting” their relationship was. At any rate, he made David pose for a photo towering over one of the “you must be this tall to ride” signs, taking care to save it to a routinely backed up folder on his phone.

As the afternoon sun peaked, they escaped into the arcade, where David spotted a pinball machine he claimed to be _surprisingly good at_. (Spoiler alert: he was not, but Patrick enjoyed the experience of watching him try, anyway.)

Patrick kicked David’s ass at Skee-ball, but David pointedly stopped him from playing air hockey. “Wouldn’t want to see that competitive side of you come out again, mm?”

“What if I just wanted to win you one of those giant stuffed animals?”

“Hmm, I think you’re going to need to win _a lot_ more tickets, and I’m not sure any of those go with our décor.”

Patrick had to laugh at that.

Then he spotted it: A magic shop. “Let’s go in here!”

“Um, that will _absolutely not_ be happening.”

“Let me guess: you dated a magician, and it ended…” Patrick looked up with faux seriousness, studying David’s grimace. “Amicably?”

David’s sideways smile made an appearance. “Well, yes.”

“Mmhmm. Please, tell me more.”

“I can’t say _who_ , because I may have signed an NDA, but let’s just say it was a famous member of the Magic Castle.”

Patrick chuckled. “What even _was_ your life before me?”

“I’d really rather not get into it,” David said, smiling as he draped his arms over Patrick’s shoulders and pulled him in for a kiss.

* * *

Patrick let himself relax and almost forgot how frustrated he’d felt earlier that day. David had been remarkably laid-back all day, which he didn’t feel he could claim responsibility for, but appreciated all the same. The trip, and the extra day off, was going better than he hoped, even though none of his plans worked out.

Which he should’ve remembered before driving them into Capitola for a sushi dinner. First of all, they spent at least 20 minutes looping around four square blocks of town, looking for parking in a sea of fellow tourists.

“David, can you keep an eye out a spot?” Patrick spit out.

“Mm, OK, but I don’t think you’re going to find one.”

 _God dammit_. “Fine. I think I saw a sign somewhere for parking up that hill.”

David looks back down at his phone. “Mmm.” _No help there._

Patrick impatiently tapped on the steering wheel and waited for the car ahead of him to move another five feet forward. Eventually they got around the bend—there were pedestrians everywhere, walking onto and off the beach, kids and towels and coolers and umbrellas and chairs and toys in tow, seemingly unaware of the traffic jam their haphazard crossing was _not helping alleviate at all_. He sighed, a little too dramatically, prompting David to pat his thigh.

“I just wanted to have one nice day with you,” Patrick spit out, his impatience bubbling over.

“I’m sorry? We _are_ having a nice day.” David stared at him, concerned.

 _It’s the thorn in his hiking shoe all over again._ “We’re never getting out of this traffic. We won’t make it to sushi. Maybe we should just go back to the room. Order pizza again.”

David made a face Patrick couldn’t quite read and cleared his throat. “As much as I would love to just eat pizza and lounge around a beach motel with you, I don’t think we need to give up on sushi so quickly. Look, you just need to get through this, what, two blocks of traffic, then go up the hill”—David pointed and held up his phone—“where there’s big parking lot. I looked it up.”

Patrick smiled. “OK, David.”

Of course, 20 minutes later—just enough time to get past the slow-moving cars, park, figure out the payment system, and walk back down the hill—they were informed it would be a 45 minute wait for a table, and Patrick’s irritation returned. “ _Forty-five_ minutes?!” he heard himself saying, with far more anger than the situation required.

“Honey. It’s fine,” David said in a low voice, rubbing his arm. “We can wait, or…”

“Or what, David? I’m hungry. I’m tired. I’m”—he looked up at the hostess, quietly waiting for him to give her a name for the list—“Yeah, OK, Brewer, two.”

“All right, sir, if you give me your phone number I can text you when your table is ready.”

Patrick winced. “Uh, it’s a Canadian number, I don’t…”

The hostess shrugged.

“It doesn’t matter,” David whispered. “How badly do you really want sushi?”

Patrick frowned at him. _I wanted to get sushi for YOU_ , he thought. “David, I don’t know…”

“How about this: there’s a cute lil’ grocery store we passed on the way here. I remember because it said something about ‘gourmet cheese’ on one of the windows. We could go get some cheese and bread and wine and picnic on the beach.” He started to lead Patrick toward the exit with an apologetic “thanks, but no thanks” wave to the hostess. “It’ll be fun!”

Patrick followed David out the door and back onto the street. “I just wanted to do something nice for you. I know the wedding planning is a lot of stress, and…” he rubbed his eyes, tired.

“You _did_ do something nice! You gave us this whole extra day. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m actually enjoying myself.”

“I did notice, and don’t think I’m not a little confused,” Patrick replied with a laugh.

“Excuse me, I _am_ capable of relaxing every once in a while.” _You gave me that gift, too_ , thought David. “Anyway, I am getting hungry, so let’s go get some cheese.”

Patrick snickered. “If only cheese were all it took to keep you happy, David.”

“It goes a long way!” David huffed as they walked uphill.

* * *

While David selected cheeses, Patrick was on a mission to pick up the rest of their picnic dinner. He filled a basket with a baguette, an interesting-looking spread that proclaimed to be “made right here in Santa Cruz” on its homey little label, some wine from the nearby mountains, local berries, a slice of chocolate cake, and a little picnic utensil set with a cheese knife. By the time Patrick returned to David, he was scrutinizing the case with a small stack already piling up on the counter, with a patient deli clerk answering his questions.

“Do I need to give you a budget for that?” Patrick teased.

“Sandra? What do you think we’re at? And I really wanted to find a good local goat cheese…”

Sandra opened her mouth to offer a suggestion, but Patrick waved her off with a smile. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. But I would like to _eat_ soon, so if you want to wrap it up…”

“Mmhmm. OK, Sandra, let’s go with that one you recommended, then I guess that’s it.”

Patrick cut in. “Should we get some meats?”

“Ooohhh, yes. Good call. You pick.”

Patrick studied the deli case and pointed at two things. The deli clerk shrugged and wrapped up an amount she figured would suit a picnic and pushed their ample pile of wrapped and tagged packages across the counter with a smile. They thanked her and went to check out.

“Ooh, cake? I hope you got one for yourself,” David said, taking stock of the basket, only to be met with Patrick’s _really?_ face. “I suppose I can share.”

They linked arms as they left the store.

* * *

It wasn’t quite dusk, but the light was beginning to fade as they parked at a state beach lot near picnic table. Only a few stragglers remained on the beach—kids with energy left to burn playing in the shallow waves, their parents trying to pack up—while the local joggers and dog walkers left footprints in the soft, damp sand.

“Bit of a smell,” David complained, lightly, as they unpacked their findings. Patrick only snickered.

“I suppose the beaches you’re used to don’t have this ocean-y funk?”

“Not that I can recall, no. But that may have been my proximity to male models wearing _very expensive_ cologne.” David rolled his eyes, making Patrick laugh.

“And I suppose the local preference for natural deodorant isn’t helping either.”

David smirked. “I hadn’t noticed.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes. “This goat cheese is really good,” Patrick noted.

“Sandra was telling me about the farm it came from in, uhh, Watsonville, I think?”

“Made a new friend, did you?” Patrick teased.

“I have a way with people who handle cheese!” David’s gold rings glittered in the fading sunlight as he punctuated his words with his hands.

“I know. I love that about you.” And it was true, really: David’s rapport with Heather Warner was the only reason they still carried her products after Ted broke up with her to be with Alexis. “Anyway, what do you say we finish this and take a sunset stroll along this beautiful, if somewhat stinky, beach?”

“I’d like nothing better,” David said with a grin. “Also, I think some of this might travel, so…”

“And here I thought you were looking forward to an airport eatery lunch.”

“Mm, I do love Sbarro, but I don’t believe they have one here.”

“I swear I spotted a sushi place on our way through the terminal.”

David raised an eyebrow. “Did I ever tell you about the time I got food poisoning before boarding a 10-hour flight to Europe after eating airport sushi?”

“You did not, but… enough said.”

They carefully packed up the leftovers, saving the cake for later, and stashed it in the trunk of their rental car. The sky was again a picture-perfect sunset streaked with pinks and oranges set against deep blue-gray clouds near the horizon. David took a few selfies before it got too dark—two years of coaching and practice had made Patrick a pro—and started walking.

Most of the time, they silently took in the sunset as it faded into dusk, listened to the surf, and held hands. There was no real conversation, just brief exchanges when one of them saw something noteworthy. _Pretty close to a perfect end to an imperfect day_ , Patrick thought.

“Thank you, Patrick,” David said, almost out of nowhere. He squeezed his fiance’s hand. Patrick could feel the rings. It snapped him right into the moment.

“For what?”

“For today. For this.” _For everything_.

“What? I should thank you.”

David shook his head. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’d be passed out in the back of Stevie’s car somewhere outside Elm Grove right now without your little surprise.”

“Heh.”

“Seriously. I needed this. I didn’t even know.”

“Yeah, you did.” There was nothing to tease him about. David’s control-freak tendencies were in overdrive with wedding planning. “I’m only surprised you were able to _use_ it.”

David feigned offense, but only for a second. “I know I can be… some might say _a lot_? But I figured you knew what you were getting into when you asked me, so…”

“I did,” came Patrick’s reply, soft and reedy.

“But I also feel like I can be better with you. Like I _get to be_ better.”

Patrick just blinked at him. He felt a lot of things he couldn’t quite say out loud: sad that David felt he had to _be better_ to deserve Patrick, somehow; angry that everyone else in David’s life had left him with that impression; happy that he got to bring out, no, be with _that_ version of David. ‘Til death do us part, etc.

“I love you so much, David,” was all that came out, and he was enveloped by arms and lips and _David_ and… this was definitely a perfect evening.

The sun had fully set, the sky’s once warm tones giving way to rich blues and grays. A few stars became visible as they realized they probably needed to turn around.

That’s when Patrick spotted a recently abandoned bonfire.

“Looks like someone forgot to put that out.”

“Mm.”

They walked over to the smoldering pit. “And they left a blanket.”

David grimaced. “ _Hmm._ ”

“Come on, it’s fine. Probably.” Patrick sat down on the abandoned beach blanket and patted the space next to him.

“Fine. But if you start itching…”

David grudgingly sat down. Patrick snaked an arm around David and leaned into his shoulder, pushing them to lay down, entangled. David didn’t fight it; he responded with a kiss. Patrick didn’t let the kiss end; he slipped a hand under his sweater and stroking the small of his back.

“Aahhh, that’s a little chilly,” David objected with a whisper. Patrick grinned and pulled David close and nuzzled his neck.

“Is that warmer?” he said softly, the words vibrating into David’s skin.

“Mm,” David responded distractedly.

Patrick kissed along David’s jawline, warm breath from his open mouth alternating with soft cool exhalations against David’s careful stubble. He could feel the skin prickle, which only encouraged him further. “Better?”

An ocean breeze passed over the bonfire’s remains, which crackled and sent a gentle plume of smoke wafting in the couple’s direction. David buried his face in Patrick’s chest. He smelled of sweat and salt and the little bit of beer he’d spilled on himself at lunch. David breathed deep and hummed in assent.

Patrick smiled and looked up, continuing his gentle stroking of David’s back. It was clear enough to see stars. He took in the moment. He wished he could remember some constellations. Maybe Orion? The Big Dipper? He scanned the skies. David must have noticed Patrick’s attentions were elsewhere, and turned his head upward.

“Pretty.”

“Yep.”

They were almost alone on the beach—maybe a few other people taking a stroll, chatting quietly, finishing off their own bonfires. They were far enough from the parking lot that they didn’t see many street lamps. David hoped they’d be able to find their way back, but in the moment, he was too happy to worry about it.

“I wish I knew constellations…” Patrick said after they’d been sitting there for a few minutes.

“No cute Astronomy 101 class from college?” David teased.

Patrick laughed. “Nah, I was a Rocks for Jocks guy.”

“Hmmm,” David responded, covering up a snicker. “Well, I think I have an app.”

“An _app_?”

David fished his phone out of a pocket and poked around for the sky view app he remembered downloading. Finding it, he held the phone up to the sky, revealing a map of celestial objects that shifted as he moved the device. “Yep.”

“That’s cool,” Patrick admitted. “Why do you have that?” He’d never known David to be particularly outdoorsy.

“Well, I read that stargazing was meditative and thought it might be good for my wellness journey, but I forgot about the junebugs. So many junebugs.” David shuddered. Patrick wanted to laugh, but the junebugs in Schitt’s Creek were huge. And gross.

Instead, he studied David’s phone screen, making note of the constellations and planets it identified. “No junebugs here,” he sighed, kissing David on the cheek. _Only fiances_.

David smiled and worked his free hand through Patrick’s hair. “No junebugs,” he agreed. They watched the sky for a little while longer, but the app did a lot of the work for them. Maybe if they’d been different sorts of people, they might have made a game out of inventing their own constellations, or renaming the stars, but that wasn’t them. They just sat, cradled in each other’s arms, breathing in the sea salt-and-bonfire smoke breeze as if they were the last people on earth, and that was more than enough.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading and commenting! it was fun participating in open fic night. i'm on tumblr at yerbamansa.


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